


Rookie Mistake

by ladymcgilvra



Series: Whumptober 2020 - Shinra [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymcgilvra/pseuds/ladymcgilvra
Summary: A short fic written for Whumptober 2020.Rookie Turk Reno is investigating a weapons smuggler on the Northern Continent when the mission goes horribly wrong and he finds himself captured.
Series: Whumptober 2020 - Shinra [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954399
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Rookie Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic I've written and posted, so please be kind.  
> Please be aware that, as it's for Whumptober, it includes descriptions of violence and injury.  
> Trigger warnings are: blood (minor); forced capitvity; guns; medical procedures.

Life was good. Gone were the days where he had to worry if there would be food to eat, or a place to sleep. Reno was a Turk now, a member of Shinra’s infamous Department of Administrative Research. He never went hungry, had a comfortable company apartment, and more money than he knew what to do with. Sure, being a Turk was dangerous, but he still had better odds of survival than as a stray.

The evening found him in Icicle Inn, a small town nestled in the Great Glacier’s shadow. Granted, it was his first solo assignment, but it was going well. He already had several good leads on the rogue weapons dealer, and tomorrow he was going to hunt the bastard down. Show him what Shinra thought of those who tried to steal its technology. 

But tonight? Judging by the looks that knockout at the end of the bar was giving him, tonight was going to be just as satisfying.

He watched avidly as she stirred her drink, then brought the dainty spoon up to her full lips. She held his gaze, her dark eyes full of promise as she darted her tongue out to lick away the residue. He shifted, trying to get more comfortable, as he watched and imagined what it would feel like having her do the same to him. When she crooked her finger at him he slid off the stool and hurried over, as if pulled by an invisible string.

“Want to have a drink with me?” she said, her voice low and warm.

He nodded, at a loss for words. An unusual occurrence, but most women expected him to chase them a little, even if they were clearly interested.

“It’s a Fireside Toddy, perfect for this freezing weather. You want to try it?”

“Sure.”

He clasped the glass in his hands. The aroma was enticing and took a tentative sip. It tasted just as good, smooth and well-rounded, and he felt it warming him as he swallowed. Before he knew it, he had drained the glass.

“Oh, no,” he peered at the dregs of the drink in front of him, “I drank it all.”

“Why don’t we go back to mine?” She brought her hand up to play with a strand of his hair. “I can make us both another drink there.”

He soon found himself in a tidy little house only a short, but freezing cold, walk from the inn. He lounged on a pile of thick furs in front of a roaring file, waiting for her to emerge from her room. When she did, clad only in a skimpy lace negligee, it almost took his breath away. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as she sauntered over, before bending down to whisper in his ear.

“Like what you see?”

He nodded, for once in his life lost for words. She disappeared into the kitchen, and returned holding two small glasses filled to the brim with a deep, ruby red liquid.

“A nightcap?”

He took it from her, draining it all at once. It was rich and spicy. She laughed.

“You’re meant to sip it, savour the taste.”

“I’d rather savour your taste.” He leant over to toy with a strand of her sleek, sable hair. She smiled and pulled him into a deep kiss. He lost himself in her sweet lips and intoxicating scent.

When he pulled away to catch his breath she pushed him backwards, climbing on top of him. He moaned as she rubbed against him and went to push himself up on his elbows. A wave of dizziness crashed over him. He blinked, confused, and tried to steady himself.

“Are you okay?”

He shook his head and regretted it almost instantly. It made the room spin like a top, and he collapsed back to the floor.

“Try not to throw up, there’s a good boy.” Condescension had crept into her voice. As he lost his grip on consciousness, he knew he had made a terrible mistake.

Awareness crept back slowly. At first he only knew how much his head hurt, it felt like the worst kind of hangover and every movement made him want to vomit. Then the leaden weight of his body grabbed his attention, every limb stiff and unwilling to move. It was some while before he even realised his hands had been bound behind him, and that he was lying on a hard, chill floor. It was a mistake to open his eyes. They ached at even the weak light that illuminated the small room. Once he had waited for the blurring to subside it only confirmed his suspicions. The one window was high near the ceiling, and the room was bare.

He tried to roll onto his side, but the movement made his stomach lurch. That woman last night had drugged him. He’d let his guard down, and now it looked like he was going to pay the price. Hell, the Chief would probably use this as an object lesson for his replacement.

Time to take stock. There was at least a chance to get out of this if he played his cards right. It was no surprise to find both of his weapons were missing. But nothing seemed broken. His suit was a mess, it looked like they had dragged him across a building site. That hit him more than he expected, and he realised just how important it had become as a symbol of his escape from his previous life. Well, if he made it out, he’d get a new one. If not, it wouldn’t really matter, would it?

Several sets of heavy footsteps sounded outside the door. He closed his eyes and tried his best to relax his posture. There was no point in letting them know he was awake, he might even learn something useful. The door opened, and they came to a stop.

“Is the bastard still not awake?” The voice was nasal, with an accent that might once have been cultured.

“Nah, been out cold since we brought ‘im in. I reckon Mia overdid it.” This voice was rougher, like it belonged to a lifelong smoker.

“Hah! I don’t blame her, you can’t be too careful with rats like this. Wake him up.”

Reno gasped as freezing cold water hit him with the force of a brick wall, leaving him struggling for air and shivering. A hand grabbed his hair and wrenched his head upwards, dragging him to his knees. The pain brought tears to his eyes as the room swam about him.

“So, Turk,” the first voice said. “I’ve got some questions, and you’re going to give me the answers. Understand?”

He glared at the man. He was tallish with a paunch and thinning hair. This was the weapons dealer, he was sure of it. Boy, he had fucked up. 

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can keep anything from us, rat. You won’t be leaving here alive, but how cooperative you are will determine just how unpleasant your exit will be.”

“ _ Screw you. _ ” He had meant to shout, but his throat hurt and it came out raspy and slurred. He sounded awful.

The dealer backhanded him. Spots filled his vision, his ears rang, and he tasted blood in his mouth. Had he cut his lip or knocked out a tooth? Well, there wasn’t much point in worrying about things like that at the moment.

“Have a think about it. And if you think pain won’t break you, don’t worry, there’s plenty else we can try.”

He turned to leave, and his accomplice unceremoniously dropped Reno to the floor. He landed awkwardly, his head thumping down against the stone floor. Blessed unconsciousness claimed him.

He surfaced several times before he could stay awake, his head finally having stopped spinning enough to move and think. It was late, there was no daylight coming through the tiny window, instead a faint light filtered in through the cracks around the door. He was parched, freezing cold and starving. He maneuvered himself into a corner where the floor wasn’t wet, but his clothes and hair were still soaked from the bucket of water earlier. He smiled, it would be ironic if they killed him by accident before they even tried to get any information out of him.

Light flickering through the cracks round the door alerted him to someone approaching. The door opened, and a thin face peered in. She looked barely older than a girl, skinny and wide eyed, but he saw no hints of fear in her movements. She brought in a lantern she set down at the furthest end of the room, and a tray of what looked like soup. It could be piss, and he’d drink it if it was warm.

“What’s that?”

“Soup and some bread, though it’s a bit dry. You’ll want to soak it in the soup.”

“You got a towel or some dry clothes? If I don’t get out of this sodden suit, I’ll freeze before they can question me.”

“No, but I will pass that onto them. Now, I’m going to untie you so you can eat, but don’t try anything funny.” She patted a pocket. He could see the telltale bulge. She was armed. Not a great place to draw from, though. Maybe he could use that.

It was wonderful to move his arms again. He stretched them over his head, rolled his shoulders, and shook out the stiffness. Then he set about the soup. These days he would have said it was nothing special, but right now it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. It banished the gnawing emptiness in his belly and slaked his terrible thirst. And it was hot, deliciously so. By the time he had finished, the chill had receded enough to give him the courage he needed.

“Just a sec,” he said when it looked like she was going to tie him back up, “I need to go to the toilet. Is there a bucket or something I could use? Wasn’t there one by the door?”

“There was,” she turned to look for it.

Now was his chance. With a speed that would have surprised anyone who didn’t know him, he darted for the door. As he passed his jailer, he struck out and hit her square on the nose. He felt the cartilage give way beneath his palm; she didn’t deserve this, but he would only get the one opportunity. Every muscle hurt as he pushed himself to run along the dark passageway. The stairs, he took more slowly, at every step fearful that they might creak and give him away. Then, at long last, he was at the door.

No one was keeping guard and, once he had used his entire weight to push the heavy wood open, he realised why. They were in the middle of nowhere. A distant tree line framed a vast expanse of pristine snow. Fuck! Nothing for it but to run and hope he made it to the trees before they spotted him. Figuring out where he was and how to get back to civilization would have to wait. He took a deep breath and then went for it. His lungs burned and his eyes stung as he pushed his body to its limits. He was almost there. 

The crack of a firearm reached his ears a second after he fell to the ground. He tried to stand, but the burning pain as he put weight on his leg confirmed it had hit him. Putting everything he had into it, he stumbled a few more steps, noting with a detached curiosity the trail of blood he was leaving. In the moonlight it looked almost black against the snow. Then he tumbled once more. As the shouts of pursuit reached his ears, he knew it was over.

Screams, almost inhuman in their agony, wrenched him into consciousness. Pain such as he’d never dared imagine gripped him. It was him screaming, wasn’t it?

“Hold him still, damn you!”

Impossibly, the pain intensified as red hot talons dug around inside his flesh. He screamed again, desperate for release.

It felt like they were pulling his bones out. Abruptly, he was doused by a stinging cold sensation and he shivered. As the pain at long last faded, he slipped into a fitful sleep.

The next time Reno woke, he felt better. Not well, mind you, but the pain in his leg had settled down to an intense, fiery ache. And he was still alive. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing. When he opened his eyes, he saw he was back in his cell, but someone had dragged a narrow bed down that he was lying on. How many of those bloodstains were his? Tentatively moving his arms, he realised his left wrist was still bound, but his right was free.

“Even in that state they don’t trust you.”

The voice was familiar, and with a start he turned to find the woman from before sitting beside him. He grimaced, her eyes were swollen and bruised black, and a large and grubby dressing covered her nose.

“For what little it’s worth, I’m sorry.” His throat was painfully sore, and his voice came out as more of a croak, but at least he wasn’t slurring anymore.

“Would you do it again?”

“If it meant a chance to escape? Yes.”

She smiled, it made her look rather ghoulish, and dropped her voice.

“Good, because you’re going to try again.” His shock must have shown on his face, as she let out a bark of laughter. “Look, we both know you’re not going to make it, but I figure dying from the cold has gonna be a whole lot better than what this lot will do to you.”

“I don’t even know if I could make it to the door in this state.”

“Which is why I’m giving you this,” she dug around in a pocket and pulled out a small sachet, “it’s enough hyper to keep you going for a couple of hours even with that hole in your leg.”

He dared to look at his leg for the first time. They had cut his trousers off at the knee and the area below that was swathed in thick bandaging. It was possible, but not comfortable, to flex his foot. Fear flooded him, and for the first time he could remember he realised he was rather attached to life. Bloody good time to get that revelation. It didn’t seem like he had many choices, and at least if he died out there then there was no risk of the Chief coming to haunt him for giving up company secrets.

“Okay. But why are you doing this?”

“I want to leave. And if you make a run for it, then they won’t think to look for me until it’s far too late.”

He heard the signal, a bucket being knocked down the stairs. With a shaking hand he undid the cord binding him to the bedstead. They had made the mistake of thinking he was left-handed, but he could use his right just as well if the need arose. Tearing the sachet open, he emptied the cool gel onto his tongue and swallowed. The effect was almost instantaneous, like he had shot liquid adrenaline straight into his veins. He’d never liked the effect it had, how it heightened his senses to the point where he could practically feel sound, but right now it was wonderful. With newfound ease, he rolled off the bed and slipped from the room, up the stairs and out of the building.

This time he didn’t run, he couldn’t trust his bad leg even with the stimulants in his system. Instead, he crept round to the rear of the building and headed for the forest. It was closer here. Maybe he would have made it if he’d gone this way the first time? Well, there was no point in worrying about that now. It was even colder at night, but surprisingly bright with the moonlight reflecting off the snow. It was truly beautiful. No time to stop and admire the view. Even once he’d reached the trees, the more distance he put between himself and this place, the better.

On and on he pushed. Too soon the hyper wore off, leaving him shivering, and each step on his wounded leg was agony. Time and direction were meaningless under the dark canopy of the branches. He had no way of telling where he was going. He could only hope that he wasn’t walking in a large circle. His teeth chattering were a staccato accompaniment to the crunch of snow beneath his shoes. Then he felt warm again. Time to rest.

He stumbled over to lean against the trunk of a giant fir tree. The rational part of his mind knew that if he stopped now, then it was over. But he was so tired. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him.

“The patient’s awake now, sir.”

Tseng trailed the nurse to the private room. Even in Shinra’s own facility, the Turks always got treated behind closed doors, and only those of the staff with the highest security were allowed access. They had bundled his younger colleague up in the bed, and cut quite a pathetic figure. He had never been very large, but now Reno looked almost skeletal. Seeing him hooked up to so many machines was rather macabre.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Crap. Happy to be alive though.”

They had found him, barely alive, in a forest not far from the Great Glacier. Only a judicious application of healing spells had saved his life. They had dealt the people responsible with, of course, nobody messed with the Turks and lived.

“We’ve already heard everything from the gang who captured you, but I’d like to hear from your point of view how they managed it.”

“Hah! Damn stupid rookie mistake, that’s how.” He broke off in a fit of coughing. “Took a drink from a pretty lady. Ain’t going to make that mistake again.”

“The Chief will be glad to hear that. As soon as you’re healed, we expect to see you in the office.”

“Seriously, that’s it?”

“Yes, now get some sleep.”


End file.
